The Slippers
by Ellsbeta
Summary: What elevates shoes to Once Upon A Time?


**For Billi**

Story Request: Cinderella losing the one remaining shoe and still ending up with the prince somehow.

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This story begins the way all stories begin. Once upon a time. It doesn't matter which time. But it is very important that it only happened once. Because if it happened even twice upon a time, then it would fall insignificantly into place among all the other common happenings that never get told. And then, we would have no story.

The primary object in this story is a pair of shoes. Shoes? you may ask. What is so extraordinary about a pair of shoes? What is it that elevates shoes to the status of once upon a time? Would you like the answer?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The shoes were neither remarkable nor unique. In fact, they were a particularly common, handed down pair of worn out slippers, a little too large for the last pair of feet that wore them. But to that particular last pair of feet, who had grown used to pinched toes cramped into stiff boots, this pair of slightly large, worn out slippers were quite unique and remarkable. And to the head that belonged to this pair of feet, wearing those worn out slippers was her last link to a happy past, and her only hope for a happy future.

You see, to Nina, they were her mothers shoes. They did not, as you might suppose, remind her of her mother. For her mother had left this earth in a time farther back than Nina's memory could reach to. Instead, the shoes reminded her of her father. For her father's lingering love for her mother was something she had seen often, not so many years ago. It was laced around his eyes and hidden in his smile and wrapped around the touch of his hand. Nina saw the love for her mother linger in her father's every gesture to his dying day. Sometimes she pretended it was that lingering desire for her that lured him beyond the realm of this world. But she knew such pretty stories weren't to be believed. Until she wore her mothers shoes.

The day she put on her mothers shoes began much as every day had begun since the death of her father. Nina worked for a widow and her two daughters, acting as a servant in exchange for a bed to sleep in and meals to eat. Each morning she rose early to prepare breakfast. Later she cleaned up around the house, for the widow's daughters were always leaving their clothes lying about in heaps and the blankets from their beds somehow managed to fall onto the floor every morning. Soon after, she began preparations for the noon meal. After the noon meal was taken, and the kitchen was clean once again, the afternoon would be filled with the day's major chore. The widow had a different chore for each day of the week. Monday was for washing, Tuesday for gardening, Wednesday for sewing, Thursday for market, Friday for cleaning, Saturday for baking, and Sunday for studying scripture.

Nina typically went about her daily tasks in relative solitude. For the widow and her daughters were never in her company long enough to do more than occasionally correct the way she carried out her chores. At first this was acceptable, even preferred by Nina. For to a young girl recovering from the loss of her dear father and suddenly facing herself alone in the world, filling the day with mundane tasks gave a certain level of routine that felt comforting. And if she broke down while washing the floor or cried into the laundry basket, at least no one was there to offer inadequate attempts at comfort and leave her feeling worse than she started. But as time wore on and her heart began to heal, the comfort of solitude faded into the drudgery of silence and settled into the burden of loneliness.

It was on such a day, when the loneliness seemed to Nina to hang about her like the dust she beat from the hall rugs, that Nina put on her mother's shoes. She had finished her chores early, for no dinner preparations had consumed her evening time. No, all the house was out tonight. Everyone was attending the royal ball. Everyone, that is, but Nina. No mention had been made to Nina on the subject of whether or not she would attend, and as she couldn't imagine what she would wear to a such a royal function, Nina had simply waved goodbye without even asking if she might come along too. But oh how her heart yearned to be there! How she longed to twirl about the marble dance floor, amongst the crowds of people and forget for a moment the lonely drudgery of her every day existence.

With such thoughts in mind, Nina headed to her room and took out her prized possessions. In the chest of her parents belongings, she took out her mothers slippers and daintily placed them on her feet. How good the large slippers felt on her pinched toes! She imagined them to be the dancing slippers of a true lady. She took out her finest Sunday dress and, ignoring the slight tear in one sleeve and the scorch marks on the hem, she put it on. Then she carefully undid the bun her hair was fastened in and let it fall loosely past her shoulders. Ladies didn't wear their hair down to balls, Nina knew, but she loved the way it felt flying loose about her as she spun. Nina spun about a few times in her room, pretending to be at the ball. But Nina sorely missed the music.

Then Nina had a thought. If only she could draw near to the palace, if only she could make her way to the gardens – surely they wouldn't _all_ be used for the ball – if only she could be close enough to hear the music and the laughter, she wouldn't mind dancing alone. So Nina hurried out, walking in her mother's too big slippers and her Sunday dress to find her way to the outskirts of a ball. There, by the music of the ball and the light of the stars, she planned to twirl to her hearts content.

It as it this point in the story that we must leave Nina for a moment. For the royal ball was of a special importance that Nina knew nothing about. But you, dear readers, must know, for it is a key thread in the web of this tale. This royal ball wasn't just any royal ball. This was the welcome home ball for the Prince of all the land. Prince Alaric had spent his childhood in one of the royal family's country homes. The king and queen of this land had felt it vital that their son grow strong in the country and receive a proper love of one's homeland as one can only get from the intimate acquaintance with the rustic people of the land. This, the king and queen felt, was the very best way to endear a future king to the people he would one day rule. But Prince Alaric was no longer a boy, and he had arrived at the royal palace at long last. And as was the fashion of the day, the only true way for a boy to show he had matured into a man, was for him to take a wife. And so the royal city brought out all it's finest young ladies, in hopes to see their prince step into his new role as man and future king.

But Prince Alaric had grown used to country ways. He had grown used to simple dress and raucous dances to celebrate a successful harvest under the light of the stars. Not only had Prince Alaric grown used to a simple life in the country, but he had come to love his simple life in the country. And so he watched, unimpressed, as the ladies seemed to float by in their lavish dresses. He longed to leave the stiff formalities of the evening and return to the free air of those country dances he knew so well. At least, he thought, he could step out into the gardens for a moment, feel the breeze on his neck and glance at the stars. But when he entered the garden, it wasn't the stars that caught his attention. On the far edge of the garden, just out of reach of the light that spilled from the castle, a girl was waltzing alone. Her dress was simple, her hair hung freely, and her face was turned to the stars. Yes, dear readers, it was Nina. But the prince didn't know this. All that Alaric was certain of, was that there, dancing alone, was the only girl in he had seen all evening who encompassed the beauty that can only be found in the one in whom you feel could understand and be understood by.

Nina didn't hear Alaric's light steps on the soft grass. And with her face tilted to the stars she did not see his steady approach. The first she knew of him was his strong hand suddenly supporting hers. His other arm encircled her waist and they were dancing. She looked into his face, wondering how he managed to step into the lead without missing a beat in her dance. When the music stopped, so taken with surprise were they, that for a moment they could only stare at one another.

The music began again before either had spoken. Alaric lifted his hand to hers and they began to dance once more. But this time conversation followed. Alaric began, commenting on his surprise at finding the most beautiful lady at the ball dancing alone in the shadows of the garden. Nina blushed and remarked on the fineness of the evening. They talked of the stars, of sunsets and picnics; dancing about their inner longings for the sunsets and picnics of their pasts.

It was nearing midnight when Alaric knew there could be no other maiden so suitable for him in all the kingdom. He was about to tell her such, when his mother and father called to him from the garden entrance. They crossly asked where he had gone to, when his manners became so poor, and if he was ready to take his place inside again. Nina froze when she heard his parents call his name. She knew who Alaric was. Could she really have been dancing with the prince of the whole kingdom? But surely there were other Alarics! But when she saw the king and queen at the edge of the castle, there could be no doubt. Suddenly her worn out dress, her unkept hair, her too big slippers all hit her senses with full force. Alaric wasn't facing her, he was saying something to his parents. No doubt apologizing for having left his rightful place, perhaps explaining it by showing charity to the poor girl he found in the garden, who only wanted to pretend to dance at a ball. In shame, she turned and ran.

Alaric, of course, was making no such statements. In fact, he was at the very moment about to introduce her to his parents, who had yet to notice the new lovestruck look on the face of their son. But just as he realized he had never asked her name, and turned to inquire quietly before presenting her, he saw her flee. He tried to call after her, begged her to stay, but she had a head start and clothing fitted better for running. Except, he noticed, for her shoes, which were both lying near the hedge she had escaped through. He walked over and picked them up: an old pair of worn out slippers, too big for her feet. His only link to find again the girl he could no longer imagine his days without.

Picking up the slippers, Alaric made his way towards his parents. Noticing at last his expression and the pair of shoes in his hands, they began to question him, in softer tones, of what was going on. Prince Alaric described to his parents, with all the alacrity of love, the dance he had with the girl in the garden, the only maiden he felt he could ever ask to be his wife. With less animation, he related that she had vanished into the night, leaving only these slippers. Alaric put great importance on the slippers as his last link to the only girl he could ever love. His parents agreed to help find her, though with caution, wondering a bit, as reasonable parents must, at the wild stories their son was now telling.

Nina cried when she got home. She cried for the wonderful time she had. It was the first time since her father had died that she had felt somehow at home. She cried for her ignorance. To have danced with the prince and not have even known, felt like a great blunder indeed. She cried for her timidity. To have run from the entire situation was, looking back, completely irrational. And she cried for the loss of her mother's shoes. The shoes that reminded her of the only love between a man and his wife that she had ever truly known.

Nina went to bed still in tears. The next morning she awoke with the sun to begin her chores. The morning sun shone bright and cheerful and Nina found that the grief of the night before was no longer so heavy, and in fact seemed rather silly now. She still felt a little sheepish for her flight, and she still felt a whimsical wisp of longing when she thought of the prince. But the sun was bright and the birds were singing and that was what mattered most.

Prince Alaric, on the other hand, hadn't slept well at all that night. His only thoughts were on the girl he knew not where to find. And when the morning sun rose he found no comfort in the bright sun, nor in the distant call of the birds, for they only reminded him of what he loved most about his days in the countryside and why there was only one girl he could ever marry. He set out promptly to find her, the girl who danced in the gardens, under the starlight, and talked of picnics and sunsets. The girl who would be missing her slippers.

It was barely past dawn when left to look for her. So early did he set out, that he arrived at the local cobbler's before it even opened for the day. When the cobbler did arrive, he pulled out the slippers and hastily explained, in the throes of desperation only understood by those who have also been young and in love, the dire reasons why he must know, at once, the owners of those particular slippers. The old cobbler smiled at the young prince's exuberance and calmly opened his shop. Once everything was set for the day he took the old slippers in his hands. He felt the old worn out shoes, murmuring over them in words the prince could not hear. After a long examination of them the old cobbler told the prince of a young maiden to whom he had given these shoes long ago as a wedding present. Unfortunately, this lady died shortly after the birth of her first daughter. Upon polite, though unnecessary, further insistance from the prince, the cobbler pointed the way to the current home of the daughter. Thanking the cobbler, the prince took the slippers and rode off in the proper direction.

When he saw her, she was beating the rugs. The dust swirled about her, tiny golden gleams in the cascading rays of the sun. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He leapt from his horse and before he quite knew what he was doing, found himself kneeling on the ground looking up into her astonished face. Suddenly acutely aware of the contradictions within himself, the prince was afraid that the very reason she was the only girl for him would also be the very reason she would refuse an offer to be the future queen. And so it was with hesitation that Alaric, still on his knees, held out the only gift he was still confident of: a worn out, too big pair of slippers. Nina's eyes filled with tears. She let them spill down her cheeks as she reached out to touch her mother's shoes. Dropping to her knees, her hands brushed past the soft, worn fabric and wrapped around his. A moment passed with no words, of which each would later remember only the look of love they found in each other's eyes.

Nina, of course, accepted Alaric's proposal. At first the elevated status was a considerable shock. But they soon adopted the habit of spending a considerable time each summer travelling through the country, staying in small homes amongst their people, wearing simple dress and attending town picnics and dances. Thus Alaric and Nina became known and loved for their real friendship with the citizens of their land and for their love for each other that showed in every smile, every gesture, every dance. The country abounded with loyalty to their simple King and Queen.

And thus it was, that an ordinary pair of old, worn out slippers became the stuff of "Once Upon A Time."


End file.
